"It was a dark and gloomy night in the year 1135, when the young Lord
Almeric reached his impressive and ancestral home. Nothing could be heard
but the sighing of the wind in the turrets and the moaning of Boris, the
great wolfhound. Lord Almeric had ridden far, and was tired, and the
gloominess of his ancestral home weighed on his spirits, which were
naturally buoyant and high. Flinging himself from his gaily comparisoned
horse, and tossing the rein with a muttered, 'Here, varlet!' to the waiting
groom, he opened the massive doors and entered the hall. What was his
amazement to see--"

"Time!" called the Snarker, who had his watch before him, and Hester had to
stop.

Gregory came next. His idea of the game was not very clear, to begin with,
and he had some difficulty in reading what was written, so he was able to
write very little, and that not too helpfully. He therefore wrote words
that were always near his heart:

"--a flying-machine."

and that was all.

Then came Janet. Always wishing to be kind and make things easy, she longed
to get the story back into the spirit and period of poor little romantic
Hester's opening passages. But Gregory had spoiled everything. Janet,
however, did her best:

"The young lord drew back with a start, for he could hardly believe his eyes.